Well, I'm back from my visit, and what a vista Roger enjoys from his front window, overlooking the water. I was met at the double doors by an aged retainer who showed me into the front room and I had plenty of time to peruse the Custer memorabilia for a few hours until Roger came into the room. He reached out a hand and said "look, I have money, just don't trash the joint".
I said "it's me, Malc."
Roger looked blank.
"I've come to visit. I phoned yesterday."
Roger sagged with relief. "Malc! Aye, of course. It's you.... visiting. You'll have had yer tea. Don't touch my stuff."
We talked to the wee small hours, smoked our pipes and drank copious amounts of brandy, put the world to rights and laughed at some of you who inhabit this forum. No names, no pack drill, as the old saying goes, but it was mostly digs at Brighty and Peeps.
Finally Roger said "it's time for hame", and poked me out of the door with his cromach.
The trip home included a wonderful scene of the two Forth bridges in the afternoon haze, grey and huge, looking like massive Apatosauruses wading in the Firth. I might pop back another time.
